Chapter 229 Chapter 223 The Hoax (Part 4)
The interrogation went smoothly; Wan Ziqi was very cooperative, and everything felt like a dream.
The leader of the working group, who had a sense that reality felt like a dream, had a rosy complexion, as if he had slept well.
At the persuasion of others, he honestly lay down on the old folding bed in the office to sleep, which was his habit. He slept deeply, having instructed the others not to disturb him.
Meanwhile, the confident officials, after a brief discussion, believed it was now possible to publicly disclose some information to soothe the public.
Since the last arrest of the “Production Team’s Donkey,” society had been superficially discussing the arrival of a new era. It appeared to be lukewarm, as the state machinery had been maintaining a certain level of control.
Within the party, discussions about the arrival of the extraordinary era had been held countless times. On the international stage, it was impossible to keep it a secret, but there had been no first-hand information.
With Wan Ziqi in custody, many decision-makers believed that the threads of the new era were now in the hands of China, and a new era, comparable to the Industrial Revolution, was likely on the horizon.
Think tanks declared that in the future, all current orders would be overturned, and only those regimes that could establish good relations with the extraordinary beings would survive.
Despite this confidence, the official announcement was still issued a day after Wan Ziqi’s arrest.
With a blue background and white text, it was very concise.
“… The extraordinary criminal suspect Wan (Zhihu ID: Huahuaqiu) was arrested for allegedly injuring others…”
Seeing this line on the computer screen, Fang Shijun couldn’t help but laugh out loud. She had bet right; it was exactly as she had expected—Wan Ziqi would definitely be arrested.
She was familiar with Wan Ziqi’s Zhihu ID and when she saw him pop up again on Zhihu, Fang Shijun immediately realized she had been fooled. While ordinary people might have had a temper tantrum, she managed to suppress her anger when she saw he was an extraordinary being.
But Fang Shijun was not an ordinary woman; she keenly sensed that this was the best opportunity to strike.
As long as she could provoke widespread sympathy online, she would have the support of society. If she were cursed, that would generate even more empathy.
Now that Wan Ziqi had been arrested, it actually saved her from suffering—she had originally prepared to accuse Wan Ziqi on camera in front of reporters, continuing her denunciation.
She stood up, took a sip of milk tea, and happily looked around at the houses—not just any houses, but properties in good locations in Magu.
Wan Ziqi had swindled her out of several million yuan, money that was nearly impossible to reclaim—money that could be used to buy property in Magu.
Her Weibo shares were rapidly increasing; unsurprisingly, many people thought of her denunciation after the official announcement from the state.
Fang Shijun was no longer worried about not getting her money; having made such a big fuss, she would either get money from Wan Ziqi or compensation from the state.
She sat in her chair, thought for a moment, and uploaded a selfie of herself looking haggard after wandering outside all night, along with a messy photo of her home. She also wrote a touching article and conveniently added an extra million to her losses.
In just a few hours, her article was seen across various forums, stirring the emotions of many users. This “group” could number in the tens of millions, and if added to those with sympathy or pity, it might reach nearly half a billion.
Fang Shijun’s feelings were correct; the timing was just right.
The topic of the new era and extraordinary beings had been discussed online for an entire month. This matter was the first close-to-home incident regarding a conflict between extraordinary criminal beings and ordinary people.
The anxiety about the arrival of a new era, the fear of potentially becoming subservient to others, the anger towards extraordinary beings, etc., coalesced to form a powerful torrent that could crush anyone.
This emotion ignited further as more talk of “Huahuaqiu” and its victims’ accusations emerged, like pouring gasoline on a pile of dry wood, it burned fiercely.
The authorities were unable to delete everything; even when the algorithm deleted posts, people quickly used code words to refer to the entire incident, which not only failed to quell the collective emotions but instead intensified them.
“… Communism stands by the side of the extraordinary!”
“… Don’t you understand? We ordinary people are just fuel, beasts that work, haha.”
“The good days are yet to come; practice calling the Demon Lord quickly.”
Using Fang Shijun’s article as a representation, they spread it everywhere, venting their emotions.
None of this had reached Ji Ma yet.
Not yet.
She was busy making connections, intimately communicating with people from streaming platforms like Huya and Douyu, directly bypassing the leadership and discussing with those who actually decided who would stream and who would be recommended.
They were all very willing to help Ji Ma, charging not a penny; it merely consumed some of Ji Ma’s magical energy.
“Exactly like that.” Ji Ma put down her phone.
Police officers, represented by Team Li, were still futilely wandering in circles, their expressions serious, brows furrowed, occasionally munching on potato chips to stave off hunger, which Ji Ma had bought from the small shop downstairs.
Team Li and his colleagues were still searching for a way out, unaware that they had already been released from a maze by Ji Ma and thrown into one woven from lies.
At present, they were spinning around in front of the freezer, where Wan Ziqi’s lifeless body stared blankly outside.
The Wan Ziqi they arrested was, of course, a fake, as were the officers who had “captured” him.
This little hoax had already brought Ji Ma a considerable amount of power from lies; when the true hoax was completed, she wondered how much more lie power she would gain.
Would it lead to a qualitative change?
Ji Ma was filled with expectation, but what she anticipated even more was the suffering of millions of ordinary people, as that suffering would transform into magical energy. She needed vast amounts of magical energy to create dreams on Earth. Only with dreams could she unleash all her life-preserving skills and utilize her new skills.
“Camera to the left, more to the left, yes, just like that.”
Ji Ma pointed at the camera on the ceiling, using her ability to influence with lies to adjust the angle.
Before she began her performance, Ji Ma went online, and unsurprisingly, she saw Fang Shijun’s accusation. She curled her lips, feeling it was ridiculous that Fang Shijun was so desperate for four or five million.
With just a casual word, Lin Feng sent over five million, while Wan Ziqi and Fang Shijun were fighting to the death over four million.
Though Ji Ma didn’t take it to heart, that didn’t mean she was a magnanimous person. She closed the webpage, whistling as she walked past the wandering police officers, rummaged through a closet, found a pickled vegetable jar with Fang Shijun’s name written on it, picked it up, and smashed it violently against the ground.
At that moment, Fang Shijun, far away in Magu, suddenly clutched her head, pain coursing through her body as she fell from her chair, her elbow knocking over her milk tea cup on the computer desk.
The previously extracted memories of being beaten surged back into her mind all at once, and it felt like she was reliving that nightmare all over again, clasping her face with both hands, screaming in terror.
The break is over.
Meng He was strolling in the neighborhood.
Although Fang Shijun’s experience made Meng He very angry, thinking of the police report she’d seen that morning also made her feel somewhat relieved; she believed that the state would give a fair judgment.
As she walked, she played with her phone and discovered that the Huahuaqiu account, which had been permanently banned on Zhihu, had suddenly come back to life.
Huahuaqiu had established a question on Zhihu.
“Did everyone have fun today? This Demon Lord is going to tally accounts today.”
Under that person’s question, she posted a video.
Curious, Huahuaqiu, before clicking the playback button, went to a sunny spot in the community garden where children were playing and opened the video in a completely non-dark and terrifying place.
The video was from a security camera’s perspective, showing several unarmed police officers pushing the door open. One officer, brandishing a badge, rushed in and shouted, “People’s Police!”
In the room, the computer screen was lit, and a gorgeous, tall woman was sitting in a computer chair. Her back was not centered in the frame but had an inexplicable charm that immediately captivated Huahuaqiu’s attention.
That back had horns, wings, and a tail that swayed.
Unable to resist, she reached out to touch that silhouette; the video paused, and Meng He came back to her senses.
As someone who enjoyed playing tabletop games, Meng He instantly recognized that this silhouette closely matched the various images of succubi in games.
At that moment, several nearby children began to chase each other, unable to play with their phones, and ran to Meng He, watching her play on her phone.
Meng He clicked to continue.
The video resumed.
The police officers theoretically saw the succubus sitting in the computer chair, but it appeared they did not see her at all, as they merely walked in place, one after another approaching the room’s freezer, disappearing before it.
As the perspective zoomed in, one could see a body frozen in the freezer, its face already covered with a thin layer of white frost.
Meng He found it very familiar; upon closer inspection, she couldn’t help but exclaim, “Wan Ziqi!”
Countless people had seen and cursed real photos of Wan Ziqi.
Meng He felt her heart stop; if the extraordinary being wasn’t Wan Ziqi, then who was it?
What about the woman resembling a succubus?
Why did the police suddenly disappear?
Hadn’t Wan Ziqi been arrested?
When the video cut to black and then lit up again.
The dazzling face of the succubus nearly filled half the frame, causing Meng He’s heart to race.
“All the curses in recent days have been cast by me, poor mortals,” Ji Ma smiled, saying, “Everyone who has slandered me will receive a curse. Speaking of which, I have a surprise for you.”
The succubus smiled at the screen, speaking to everyone watching the video in less-than-fluent Mandarin:
“You all have been cursed by me; don’t be discouraged. Therefore, those who have seen my words and played my memes have all been cursed. Now I’ll give you poor mortals a tiny surprise, to let you know your position.”
The succubus raised her finger and snapped.
Suddenly, everything around quieted down; Meng He could no longer hear the children’s chatter. She looked up at them, and they were opening their mouths wide but couldn’t make a sound.
Meng He opened her mouth, trying to shout, but couldn’t produce a single sound. She stood frozen in place, her mind stalling.
The surrounding silence was terrifying, with not a single human sound, only distant echoes of horns, their tones so mournful that they sounded like the desperate crying of someone or the end of humanity.
